Love Me To Death
by Poisonchik88
Summary: The secrets of Emily's dark past come back to haunt her, And the pasts quest for revenge may place the life of everyone she holds dear in extreme danger. Written for Prentiss Mystery Challenge
1. Prologue: Deadly As Sin

**Prologue: Deadly As Sin **

**"From the deepest desires often comes the deadliest hate." Socrates**

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He studied her from afar. She was still a beautiful woman. Her hair was darker then he remembers it, shorter too and straight instead of the mass tumble of curls she had years ago. She had thinned out as well. Her body was curvier back then, now it was more lean, athletic, and quietly muscular. The changes amused him. Emily despised changed but it seemed she had quite a few while he was away.

Her eyes though, her eyes were still the same one's that haunted him in his dreams. Her eyes were a pale whiskey brown that showed sweet softness beneath all the fire and stubborn will. She wanted to be as hard as she appeared, but inside she was soft as silk.

She made him who made him feel clean, made him feel like he could conquer the world when she looked at him with those eyes. She was the light and soul of his life, the only thing to make him smile.

But as the saying goes if it's too good to be true, it usually is. And it was. Now the only thing he wanted to see in those eyes is fear. Fear in the last moments of her life before he killed her.

Did she even think about him anymore? He didn't know. But before the game played out, she would be thinking of him, fearing him, feeling his vengeance.

Killing her wasn't the beginning, and it certainly wouldn't be the end. Many others deserved to die. But her death would be the most satisfying.

Watching her, he noticed her hesitate as she opened the door of her and looked around. His heart clenched painfully in his chest. Did she feel him? A final look around; she stared right at him but couldn't see him. She must have sensed something, though, because she quickly slid into her sporty car and started the ignition.

His heart pounded with emotions he refused to acknowledge and he wondered how he'd do it. How does one kill Emily Prentiss? He envisioned seizing that long, slender neck and squeezing. Yeah, he squeeze her throat slowly and put pressure on her windpipe, watching, as she turns blue. Then he'd let up, give her a breath or two. Make her think she's got a chance. That there's hope.

Just like the bitch did to him. Then he'll squeeze even harder, crushing that faint hope she gained with each gasp. And when those soft whiskey eyes looked into his own, she would know all of it was all her fault.

Walking down to his car, he glanced once again at her house before heading back the way he came. There was much to do in the next twenty-four hours, but he'd be back in time to see her face when she was told what had been done.

Time to begin.

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So what do ya'll think? The next chapter will up by tomorrow or possibly late tonight.

Thank for reading and I hope you review

Dee


	2. Chapter One: Fatal Secrets

A/n: Thank you so much for the reviews they made my day. I appreciate each and every feedback, even If I don't respond to them right away. I am very grateful for them nonetheless.

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**Chapter One: Fatal Secrets:**

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"_**Secrets are made to be found out with time." Charles Sanford**_

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"_Are you okay?" Sean's voice was full of concern._

"_What do you think?" Her voice came out a raspy whisper._

"_I'm worried about your safety, Emily."_

"_I'm a trained FBI agent, I know how to protect myself."__Her defenses were up and hostility was creeping into her tone. _

"_You probably do. You probably still sleep with a gun under your pillow." Sean nodded, noting some__minute reaction on her face, then continued. "He had a picture of you hidden underneath his mattress. Is there something you never told me Emily? Is there a reason he is singling you out? _

The conversation drifted through her head as Emily paced her bedroom, unable to sleep. She showered, dried her hair and tried to lie down, only to drift off for an hour and wake up again. She'd had a long day. Why wasn't she exhausted?

Unfinished business. Both her mind and body knew this and wouldn't let her rest. Rubbing her temple, she craved a cigarette for the first time since she'd quit Interpol four years ago.

She didn't want to accept the fact that Grigoriy Demidov Stepanov's death had anything to do with her. But her instincts shouted the contrary.

This was personal.

One brutal murder a continent away had destroyed in minutes the years of relative peace she'd painstakingly built for herself. The realization of her complicity in the crime grew within her. She clenched her uneasy stomach. How was she going to live with herself?

She left Interpol because she didn't want any more blood on her hands. But there it was. She wiped her hands on her pajama pants until Lady Macbeth came to mind, madly scrubbing her hands of blood that wasn't there.

Grigoriy Demidov Stepanov- Emily didn't kill the poor man or hijack his car, but she had caused his death just the same as if she dug that knife into his artery herself.

She took another deep breath and held it. She had to get hold of herself. The echoing of the doorbell startled her. Instinctively she reached for the Glock underneath her pillow, grabbing a hold of it with white knuckles. She could hear her heart pounding in her ears, the rapid panting of her breath making a quiet rasp through her parted lips.

"Delivery for Emily Prentiss." A young, unfamiliar voice rang out. No Irish accent.

Still, she hesitantly walked toward the peephole, imagining every possible scenario that could happen. Either she looks in the peephole and Ian shoots her between eyes or she opens the door and invites chance in.

Emily wasn't a gambling kind of women, and a bullet between the eyes wasn't how she wanted her story to end.

"Leave it outside the door."

There was the sound of shuffling and grunting and then footsteps in the distance until there was nothing but silence. Slowly she opened the door, her gun faithfully at her side. The feel of her finger embracing the trigger comforted her- made her feel more in control of what was happening.

Outside of her door there was a huge white and green funeral wreath. Casa Blanca lilies, carnations, roses, moluccella , snapdragons and gypsophila, all in pure white, framed the funeral wreath, soft trailing plumosus lending a green backdrop, making the white even brighter.

The blood drained from her face. She'd recognize that wreath anywhere.

Fear sat on the tip on of Emily's tongue, as bitter as an aspirin waiting to be swallowed. It possessed a sharp, acidic flavor that made her mouth water in the way that it does when you're about to be sick, while her eyes burned with a stinging wash of gathering tears. She willed them back with the sheer stubborn force of her will, reminding herself again and again that she wasn't one to cower.

But it was hard. Terror consumed her. Closed around her like a physical vise, banding her chest, making it difficult to draw enough air into her lungs. The muscles in her throat quivered, and Emily wondered if she was about to lose her dinner. The fear threatened to overtake her, too huge and monstrous to evade, swallowing her like Jonah in his story of the whale. The kind of fear that covered your skin after a nightmare, sticky and cold and wet. A devastating sense of helplessness pierced through her, making her flinch. He wasn't going to do this to her again. She wouldn't allow him to control her with fear. She was stronger then that.

With shaking hands Emily carefully pulled the card out by the corner with her fingernails. The pre-printed message at top—IN MEMORIAM—was followed by one written sentence; her heart lurched at the familiar loopy scrawl.

"_**Please accept my dearest condolences for your loss. **__**Sean**__** McAllister will be missed".**_

Emily dropped the card on the floor as if it had burned her, heart pounding. Her stomach threatened to rebel.

She sunk to the floor next to the door and buried her face in her arms. She sold her soul to devil and now Emily Prentiss was paying the price.

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Emily's hair was lifeless and tangled, her posture pathetic. She glanced over her shoulder twice, and jumped when the patrolman touched her.

Ian smiled. She was exhausted and afraid. Good. Payback for the sleepless nights she gave him. He hoped that whatever sleep she managed was disturbed by nightmares of blood. Did she feel any guilt? Any responsibility for what's happening?

He wanted her to melt, to burn. He needed her emotion, her temper. Mostly, he wanted her fear. He wanted her broken. Then—only then—would he confront her.

Until that time, he had many things to do. He had more messages for little Emily that involve finding the bodies of all her friend's. He knows what she cherishes most and it will give him pleasure to take it all away.

By the time he is done with her the stubborn force that was once Emily Prentiss will be on her knees begging for forgiveness. Begging him to die.

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After ten years as an agent Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner gave and took orders in stride, but even so, he found it unusual to be called into the B.A.U. for a seven ' o clock meeting with Erin Strauss. In addition to the time, it was odd that Strauss's secretary didn't give Hotch a reason for the meeting. He was curious but unconcerned. He could think of no past or current case he'd worked to merit the attention of the higher-ups, there was nothing Strauss could pin on him and Hotch didn't care much for speculation.

With a soft knock he entered her office. " You wanted to meet with me ma'am?" His tone was artificially polite. He could play the game just as well as she could.

"Glad you could make it on such short notice." Strauss's smile was as cool as always as her gaze flicked to him "Take a seat Mr. Hotchner." Erin Strauss waved him down with a flick of her wrist. Once he was sitting she slid a closed folder across her desk and towards him. Hotch's eyes narrowed, his gut tightening in suspicion, before he could even open the file Strauss spoke.

"Effectively immediately Ms. Garcia is being reassigned to Team C under Unit Chief S.S.A. Cooper."

The one thing that hit him faster than even the words was the fact that she looked positively delighted. The amusement in the older women's tone was just the wrong side of grating.

His jaw clenched and struggled to get the words out through gritted teeth "On what grounds?" Hotch hissed his temper beginning to brew. "With all due respect ma'am our team is the best and to stay the best we need every member of our team and that includes Ms. Garcia."

"While, I respect what your team accomplishes, Unfortunately, it's come to my attention that Ms. Garcia has violated the Fraternization rules of our department." Her cold blue eyes narrowed on him "Did you know about this Agent Hotchner?"

Hotch remained silent, refusing to answer the subtle question. Erin stared back, just as silent. Her delicate nose lifted disdainfully. The narrow lines of it were sharp, too sharp, almost giving her the appearance of a rodent. Hotch crossed his arms over his chest and restrained the heavy curse hovering on his lips.

"What business is it of yours what Ms. Garcia does in her personal life?" Hotch tilted his head and stared back at the older women. " It in no way hinders her professional capabilities."

"You of all people should know this." Hotch pointed out mockingly.

Strauss froze and stared back at him as though surprised "Just what are you implying Agent Hotchner?"

He only gave a short laugh his eyes twinkling and his lips twisted with an edge of rueful amusement. "I believe ma'am- and correct me if I'm wrong. You married David Rossi in 80' well after the fraternization rules had been put into place. And, at the time he was your supervisor no?"

Strauss cheeks flushed and her nails tapped against her dark dress pants in ire. " That was out of line Agent Hotchner. Don't think there won't be a reprimand in your jacket. " Her tone seemed entirely too controlled for the situation. It had a hard, icy edge that concealed pure fury.

Hotchner glanced back at Strauss coolly. "I expect nothing less. Now, if you excuse me I have paperwork to get back to. As always it's a pleasure."

He barely made it towards his office when Garica came barreling towards him at full speed. He opened his mouth to reassure her but her hastily spilled words stopped him in his tracks.

"There's been a 911 call from Emily. Dispatch put me through. Notification came through a minute ago. Reid and Morgan are all ready on their way sir' "

He started moving towards the elevator before he even had time to contemplate the situation. Why did he have the feeling that everything was going to fall about around him?

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Thank you so much for reading. I can't wait to hear what you think.

Thanks and hope you review!

Dee.


	3. Chapter Two: Trust Fall

**A/n: Thank you so much for the reviews, and the lovely feedback. I appreciate it. I'm apologize for this chapter, taking so long to get posted. If you don't already know I'm in my last semester of college and it's been severely challenging. I had a few tests this week, and I recieved my first three rejection letters to law schools I had applied to. All in the same day too. So needless to say I was a little crushed and It took awhile to do more then just school ,work , and curling in a corner trying not to think about my future. lol But today I was accepted into one law school, so my ego is a bit repaired and my future doesn't look so bleak. lol. **

**And on that note, that means more fanfiction. I'm already done with the next chapter. It's going through editing and it will be up tomorrow night after I get home from work. My goal is to update three to four chapters more chapters by Monday. I hope ya'll enjoy this chapter. Thanks for reading! **

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"Are you okay?" Reid asked when he found her sitting in her apartment hallway, the wreath in pieces all around her. She heard the fear in his voice, and her heart skipped a beat. She didn't want to worry him.

"I'm fine, Reid."

"You're lying. How can you be fine?" It was Derek turn to stare at her with concern, his eyes narrowed, wrinkles of worry across his forehead.

"You know the details?" She didn't want to know, but she couldn't help herself either.

"Every last one." Reid whispered, moving too close for comfort. She didn't want comfort. She didn't deserve comfort.

"How?" Was that weak squeak her voice? She didn't recognize it. "How did he die?"

"Emily-" Derek started cut off by her violent hiss of breathe.

"How?" She demanded, refusing to be denied.

"His throat was slit. Emily, how did you know him?"

She shook her head to try and clear the devastation creeping inside her "I want to canvas the crime scene."

"Absolutely not." Emily's head ripped around startled by the commanding voice of Hotch. Had he always been here?

She took a deep breath, and then slowly blew it out. "I need to know. I can't just do nothing. Please Hotch?"

In his three year of knowing Prentiss, Hotch had never once heard her beg. Never once seen her cry. And he never wanted to see it again.

He hated whoever did this for cracking her.

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Her heart was pounding, a light sheen of perspiration on her back. Her skin was clammy. Part of her wished Hotch had refused her tearful request. Yellow crime-scene tape slashed the serene landscape, a stark reminder of what awaited her inside. She had walked through hundreds of crime scenes. She'd seen the worst that man could do to his fellow man. But this was personal. Gathering her emotions, she pushed them down as far as she could, deep down, behind her soul. She stood in the entry hall the metallic taste of blood already in her nostrils, her mouth. She closed her eyes, gathering her strength.

Run!

Her mind screamed, but she was compelled to move forward. She heard Derek talking, but didn't hear his words.

Run!

Her feet wouldn't stop moving forward, wouldn't turn back. She turned into the bedroom, knowing before she opened the door what she would see. She smelled the blood, tasted it, breathed it into her lungs and gagged. Emily swallowed a sob. Sean's death had not been easy. His death wasn't peaceful either. He had fought for every breath, the evidence of his failure still in his eyes. She hated facing this, but she needed to know with every certainty. She'd need to see the truth with her own eyes. She couldn't help but stare, avoiding the wide-eyed terror etched on his face. What drew Emily's eye was the word traitor craved across his throat, the first T deep enough it sliced the artery.

She stepped out of the bedroom needing a few more minutes to compose herself. Fighting back memories she needed to re-bury, at least until she was alone.

"Emily, you should sit this one out." Reid's ever-patient voice swept over.

"No," she said, louder than she intended.

It would be so easy to leave everything run. She knew it would. But she couldn't do that. She couldn't run again, she had obligations and responsibilities. A life.

"I'm okay I promise," she said. "I just needed a minute."

Reid didn't even have to point out that she lying- they both knew it. He noted how she kept herself detached from him, her body turned at a slight angle, almost as if she were ready to bolt even as she looked him straight in the eye. Her face was as blank and her brown eyes stormy. Right then and there Reid finally understood the phrase "eyes are windows to the soul." Emily's eyes told him she was scared but strong, troubled but defiant.

"I can do this. I need to, Reid."

He wanted to object, but her tense jaw showed her determination. At the same time, fatigue brightened her eyes. He touched her cheek with the tips of his fingers, but it turned into a caress. He stiffened even as she moved closer to him. Her arms locked and quivering, almost in an empty hug, before she surrendered to him. Reid whispered nonsense in her ear and pulled her closer to him, patting her hair and smoothing it down her back. She shook from violent sobs, but no sound escaped.

"Emily—"

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." She turned into Reid's chest and her stifled sob tore at Reid's heart. But he had to get to the bottom of this. "Who's is he to you Prentiss?" he asked, his voice light and soothing.

Her head jerked up and she glared at him, her eyes red with unshed tears. Reid ignored the voice inside of him to shut up. It was important. Emily pushed herself away from him, Reid watched her control the terror and the grief, focusing instead on her anger toward him. Why? In the back of his heart, Reid wanted to let it go, apologize and wrap her back I his arms. He could barely handle the emotions rising inside him at the moment the thought that someone was trying to hurt her. To destroy her. He was surprised by the pure anger. The need to protect her. The need to demand explanations, to simply hold her, was tearing him 'd never had so many emotions surging through him. But, he knew he had to put his emotions on the back burner he couldn't help her without knowing anything.

"Emily, they are going to ask you soon enough. Whatever it is. Whoever he is. You can tell me. I'll help you. You know you can trust me right?"

She wanted to cry, but did she have any tears left? For the past five years she'd let the world slip by, had stayed where she was safe, had closed the rest of the world out and not let anyone in that could potentially hurt her. She used to be the kind of person who took chances, who loved adventure, who trusted people. No she rarely went anywhere but work or to her house-a carefully mapped out journey that she knew was safe. She kept everyone she called a friend at a careful concealed distance. She threw herself into her work to combat the loneliness that ate her.

She was always afraid. She hated being afraid.

She'd stopped living. She'd let him win. He still controlled her life. He still touched her. Maybe not physically, but he still lived inside her, eating away at her very soul, at who she used to be.

How could she have let that happen?

It had to stop. It had to stop now. She had a right to live, something that Sean would never get the chance to do now. She refused to be afraid. Not anymore. Five years was damn long enough. She sucked in great gulps of pure oxygen, and he smell of Reid's cologne. Breathing in the safety, trust and protection he was radiating.

She shook her head and closed her eyes, trying to exercise the demons that haunted her. "He was my boss."

Finally she opened her eyes and look at him. "But he was more that. He was a friend. He got me away from him. Sean saved my life."

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**Thanks for reading ya'll. I hope you enjoyed it and you leave me some feedback. I'm excited for the next chapter. :) **

**Have a good weekend everyone! **

**Dee.**


	4. Chapter Three: Forbidden

**A/N: So, I got home from work a little later then I thought I would. But, here is the new chapter. Thank ya'll for last chapter reviews. I really appreciate it! Oh, and even anyone has any helpful tips at writing flashback scenes I would so appreciate it. I think mine need a little work and I could use some thoughts/ tips so I can improve for next time. Thanks! Hope ya'll enjoy, **

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"W_e always long for the forbidden things, and desire what is denied us."_

—_FRANÇOIS RABELAIS (1494–1553)_

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This- the killings wasn't doing what Ian wanted, it wasn't ridding him of the blackness festering within him. A toxic, destructive darkness that had formed inside of him since….

**SHUT UP!**

He forced the wave of unwanted memories from his mind, he set off again down the crowded sidewalk, while the edgy, restless need continued to slither beneath his skin. He knew its source—knew from exactly where it sprang, but there wasn't anything he could do about it.

He wouldn't be free till he killed her.

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_"He was my boss."_

_Finally Emily opened her eyes and look at Reid. "But he was more that. He was a friend. He got me away from him. Sean saved my life."_

"Your boss?" Reid asked.

Tears silently streamed down Emily's cheeks as she down at the ground. Deep sadness etched every crease of her face.

"Prentiss?" Reid stepped toward hers. "Emily?" He put his finger under her chin, lifting her gaze to his. The raw pain in her face threw him for a loop. He had never seen such expressive eyes in his life, and Emily's were filled with such agony.

She was shaking and he pulled her close. "Talk to me, Emily. I can't help you if you don't talk to me."

"He saved me. I never said thank you, I lied to him." She croaked into his chest.

"About what?"

But she said nothing and Reid just rocked her back and forth for several long minutes until her sobs turned to crying, her crying to whimpering, and then complete stillness. Somehow, the silence was the worst. She'd buried her face in his chest. Reid pushed her back.

"Emily, trust me. You have to trust me." She looked into his eyes, searching for what? Honesty? Trust? He didn't know. Her lips trembled, and he put a finger on their red fullness. "Trust me," he whispered.

She swallowed. "I—I—" She stopped, her voice hoarse.

He kissed her lightly on the forehead. She needed him. This strong, independent woman needed him, and every protective instinct he had was focused on her, He pulled her tightly to him. "What? Tell me."

"I—I can't." Her voice came out a croak. He turned her face to his, searching her eyes, her mouth, the worry lines on her forehead. Her lips quivered. He desperately wanted to kiss her, to show her that he could protect her, that he would always be here for her.

He couldn't kiss her. She was too vulnerable, too needy. But he wanted, wanted, soothe the pain on her face. If only she would let him in.

She was out of his arms so fast he almost didn't feel her push off of him.

"I'm going to ask the neighbors if they heard anything."

"Emily!" He called, but she didn't even look back, didn't stop, she practically ran down the hallway.

He was so busy watching her walk away that Morgan surprised him when his hand gripped his shoulder and squeezed. "How is our girl?"

Reid frowned his jaw tightening. "Scared, Morgan. Whatever's going on it's eating her alive."

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**Flashback:**

_Her face hit the floor with a crack. Something warm gushed from her __nostril._

_"I'm going to ask you one more time. And I want an answer. If I don't __get one, you're gonna end up like your partner. Got it?"_

_Emily's heart lurched. "Where's Kate?" _

_A knee dug into her back between her shoulder blades. "Same place __you're gonna be if you don't cooperate. Now. Who else knows?"_

_"I already told you-" _

_"I want names! Who else have you talked to?" _

_"I told you, I-" _

_A boot crashed into her rib cage, sending pain zinging through her __body. She whimpered and curled into a ball, realizing her fate had already been determined. No matter what she said, they were going to kill her, just as they'd killed Kate._

_Emily opened her eyes and tried to focus, __She clutched her abdomen and tried to take stock. Blood, warm and coppery, seeped into her mouth. Her vision wavered and her forehead throbbed. Her breath came in shallow gasps, her mouth gaped open as she violently pulled air in and pushed it out. In. Out. Focus. __ T__he darkness swirled around her, and she couldn't see anything, not a scrap of light. Her skull felt as if it had collided with a sledgehammer. She tried to sit up, but her arms and legs felt numb. __H__er breath rasped in and out. In a small, objective corner of her mind, she realized she was hyperventilating, beginning to panic. She had to come up with a plan. _

_Any minute, they might come back. _

_She squirmed against the concrete, willing her arms and legs to come alive. Soon they flooded with sensation, and her wrists and ankles burned where the bindings had cut through her skin. Ignoring the pain, she maneuvered herself onto her knees. The flesh was raw there, too, but that was the least of her problems. She managed to stand. Surrounded by __darkness She began hopping-tiny hops that stole the breath from her lungs and had her heart thundering. Voices approached, followed by some shuffling. A door opened, allowing a narrow shaft of light into the room. Emily froze, knowing this could be the moment she died. _

_Her body quivered with recognition as the sound of voice, registered. _

_The light swept over her. The flashlight shone in her eyes, bright and blinding. She couldn't see the man holding it, but she didn't need to, she knew that voice anywhere. _

_"Got her," he said as he crouched down to her level and smoothed back her bloody hair and covering her shaking form in his jacket. "My God, child what did they do to you?" _

"_I'm sorry Sean." Emily croaked out, her voice hoarse and everything ached. _

"Shhh._Shhh. Everything is okay Emily, I've got you now."_

A knock on the door startled Emily out of her reverie. Hotch entered the conference room. He sat down across from her, watching her a moment before speaking.

"Do you believe Sean McAllister's death has to do with anything he was involved in, in the past ?"

She knew it was bound to come up. "No," she said cautiously, trying hard to bury the lie. She was trained for this after all.

"This was personal Prentiss, for both you and him."

Since Hotch didn't outright ask the question, Emily didn't say a word.

"Prenitss," he said, his voice soft, "I know this is hard on you, but you need to know I'm also looking out for you. You need to—"

She put up her hand. "We don't know that," she countered. " All this could be completely unconnected to me, to him."

Hotch raised an eyebrow, his face stern. She felt like she was a hostile witness. "You're obviously not thinking straight if you disagree. The wreath was sent to you. Sean takes vacation to come here? He calls you numerous times at work. Penelope remembered the name."

"I **don't** know anything Hotch." The words rang hollow even to her.

Hotch remained silent for several moments, then said, "I hope you know what you're doing Prentiss."

Emily stood her ground. "I do."

"Then you'll take this the way that its intended. You're hereby on administrative leave."

"No sir, you can't do that, not now."

"I just did."

She shook her head violently in denial. "No."

"I just did. Now go home Prentiss."

"I need to work this case. I need to catch Sean's killer. I owe him."

"And we will." Hotch's tone left no room for argument. "Now go home."

She grabbed her jacket angrily wringing the material in her hands as she glared at the ground.

"I'm sorry, Prentiss"

Despise the anger she believed it.

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At two o'clock, Emily gave up the attempt to sleep, turned on the light, and opened a book. But after reading for an hour and realizing that she had not absorbed one word, she restlessly put the book down and turned off the light again. Every muscle in her body felt wired and taut, and she had the beginning of a headache.

Evils older than four years tried to push themselves into her conscious memory; she had to fight aggressively to keep them at bay. In doing so, she developed a pounding, mind-numbing headache.

After a moment's debate Emily sighed and pushed back the covers. If she was going to get any sleep she was going to have a take an aspirin. Sleepily she patted down her apartment's hallway to the bathroom. The objective part of her brain registered the ajar kitchen door just a moment too late. The rest panicked.

He was _here_. The nightmare she'd imagined so many times, in vivid detail, was happening. Her pulse skittered and spurred her body into action. She tried to turn back, and then _smack!_ She was on the ground, her legs pinned. No air, no breath. She scratched and elbowed and kicked, her heel hitting something soft. A moan. She jerked herself free and lunged for the front door.

"Help!"

Just a few more feet… She reached for the handle.

A hand clamped around her ankle and dragged her back. She clawed at the floor. She was going to die.

_Hail Mary, full of grace..._

**_

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_That's the end of this chapter! New one should be updated by tomorrow. **

**Thanks for reading and hope you review**

**Dee**


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